Hermione closed the worn cover of the nursery rhyme collection in her hands and set it on the table beside Rose's bed. When she turned back to face her five-year-old daughter, the little girl was pouting. Hermione's heart melted. Rose loved books just as much as she did, and nighttime was there special storytime. She leaned forward and placed a loving kissing on top of Rose's head before she said, "Oh Rose, don't look sound sad. We've already read three extra stories this evening and it's getting late."
"But Mum, can't we read one more?" Rose pleased with large, hopeful eyes.
Getting to her feet Hermione murmured softly, "No love, it's time for bed. Now, let's get you tucked in." As she spoke, Hermione pulled the blankets up to tuck around her daughter snugly. Rose on the other hand had crossed her little arms over her chest and turned her head too look out of the window with a sullen expression. Hermione smiled sadly at Rose's grumpiness about not getting her way, then said, "I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well, sweetheart."
"Wait,' Rose exclaimed, throwing her blankets off to clamber toward the window next to her bed. "I saw a shooting star!"
"Well, you'd better make a wish then. Shooting stars are supposed to make your wishes come true." Hermione had paused in the doorway with her hand on the light switch, waiting for Rose to get back in the covers before she shut the light off.
However, Rose was kneeling by the window with her fingers laced together, as if praying, and she was saying, 'I wish my mummy would read me another story."
Hermione fought a grin as she said, 'Nice try, Rose. Goodnight."
Rose scowled at her mum for a minute, then she climbed back under the blankets. Hermione waited until she was settled back against the pillows before she turned off the light and closed the door, all the while smiling over the cheek of her little Rose.